


Waking the Dead

by Hazeylemon



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazeylemon/pseuds/Hazeylemon
Summary: Kenny wakes up in a strange situation, chained to the wall, with very little memory.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Waking the Dead

He couldn't…..recall where he was. He couldn't remember what happened before he woke up. Maybe a dream? He was sick? He was definitely hungry. Ravenous. God, Kenny's used to a little hunger but this was… this was beyond anything hed felt. He felt like he was dying. Was he alone? Was there anyone around?

“Mmrrh.” His throat was so fucking dry. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. His brain and body werent cooperating. His eyes were still closed. Open your eyes, dumbass.

The dark opened to blinding light. Kenny winced and grunted again. He moved to cover his eyes with his hand but-- there was something holding him. There's a heavy clunk of metal as he rattled the chains around his arm. What the fuck? Eyes finally adjusted, they roll in their sockets as he takes stock of his surroundings. A run down looking house. Windows were boarded up and it looked like all necessities were moved into the one room. He would see the chains now. Around his limbs and around his throat. He swallowed thickly around his tongue, his spit feeling too thick and the taste too bitter.

“O-oh, Jesus..” There's a voice. Kenny's eyes spin in his head again to locate the source, stomach squeezing tighter until it feels like his brain would shut down. Near the door. A blonde. Tall, thin frame. Kenny couldn't remember what his own build was. He could probably take him. His mouth opened again to speak, only to gargle, bitter saliva spilling over and down his chin. The boy seemed on edge, but he looked sadder than he did scared. “Eric-- are you sure this is- I mean I'm trustin’ your judgement and all-- but…” He stutters, peering into the obscured hallway.

“Just trust me. I've handled this before.” another voice, steady as death. He stepped into the room, a larger boy. Brunette, short. Kenny's stomach audibly growled, a moan escaping his throat. He bit down on his tongue, copper joining the bitterness. “Yeah yeah, I know I look just soooooo appetizing.” where the blonde seemed uneasy, this guy was completely disinterested.

“Whhhhrrrrrmmmm" Another attempt to communicate. His brain was just too god damn fuzzy. Kenny clenched and unclenched his hands in their restraints. The larger boy was pulling something out of a bag. A metal tool. Pliers? Pliers. He was pulling out pliers why? “Whh?”

“Hey, buddy, shh.” The guy had stepped closer, still not scared, but a sadness was hidden in his face. A steady hand reached up and took a hold of his jaw. Kenny drooled more, his stomach twisting. He could smell his skin and sense his pulse and it was overwhelming. He's so fucking hungry. But the grip on his jaw was so firm, he couldn't move. Kenny growled. He felt tormented. “I'm really sorry about this, dude.” He yanked his jaw open and pliers begin to grip at teeth and yank.. 

Kenny could have screamed. He should have, right? That's supposed to hurt. Like, a shit ton. But they come out so easily and the pain is so dull compared to that of his stomach. Instead he growled and squirmed against the chains and the hand. The brunette looked like he was wincing, hushing him and muttering occasional apologies. The blonde in the corner looked like he was going to throw up. Oh, no he left the room to puke.

Blood trickled down his chin and down his throat as the last tooth joined the others on the floor.

“It’s over dude, it's okay.” And while the words should've been directed to his concerned friend, they were for Kenny. The vice grip on him was gone, replaced by soft hands cupping his face. He kissed Kenny’s cheek and jaw, carefully avoiding the spit and blood. That's when he brought his sleeve up to Ken’s mouth, wiping the fluids from his face. Kenny bit his hand, though it results in very little than a hitch in the boy’s breath.

He kissed him on his lips.

And Kenny remembered.


End file.
